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Tom and Vickie moved in next door about 3 months ago. They took an OTP (option to purchase) on the house that had recently become vacant due to the passing of old Mrs. M. They had been married for about three years, no kids, none planned at this point and Vickie and I got pretty friendly. She’s about 5’5” and (according to her) weighs ‘too much’ (yeah, right! If she goes more than 125 lbs, I’d be surprised!). Anyway, my bf and Tom were out in the garage, swapping war stories (undoubtedly about the girls they had ‘conquered’ in college – HA! If they only knew….!). Vickie and I were sitting on the back patio sharing a bottle of wine. Somehow, the talk turned to vacations we had taken. Here’s the story of her one (and only!) ‘rough’ camping trip. I’m telling this pretty much the way she told it, but halfway through, I was laughing so hard I almost peed in my jeans! I had to stop her and go inside and take a leak (or, as my bf says, ‘shake the dew off the flower’!). Take it away, Vickie!
This is before we moved here. We had just moved back in-state. We had been married for about a year when this event takes place. I had gotten home from work and found Tom’s car in the driveway. . This, in and of itself, was unusual as I commonly get home before he does. I opened the door and shucked off my work gear, carefully storing it in the hall closet (and picking his up from the living room — he STILL hadn’t learned about putting his stuff away!). I didn’t hear him in the house and, walking through the kitchen, saw him in the backyard, standing over the outdoor grill.
I walked out onto the patio, coming up behind him (as he usually does to me) and put my arms around him, hugging him from behind.
“Man, something smells good!” I said, peeking over his shoulder at the two sirloins he had on the grill. “Honey, is that all we’re having? I love steak, but a girl has to have some veggies and potatoes, and I didn’t see anything on the stove!”
“Ah, my little detective! Your powers of observation must be slipping! The microwave is humming on ‘warm’ with two big twice baked potatoes and, if you had looked, you would have seen the dining room table all set with a big salad, complete with ‘Tom’s Magic Dressing’, guaranteed to ‘undress’ you later on tonight!” Now, that was something to look forward to!
“When did you do all this? What time did you get home?” I asked, somewhat perplexed (and a little concerned. Tom doesn’t take time off too frequently!).
“Kevin gave me the afternoon off for that special assignment I worked on last week, the one that took several hours longer than we anticipated to conclude. I figured I would fix my wife a great meal with the extra time!”
Now my curiosity was really on alert! Tom is a great cook but, since we were married, he’s made maybe three dinners! He must want something and I was sure to find out shortly. The steaks were just about done (rare, the way I like them) and he was urging me to go inside and sit down. He even had the “KP” sign we picked up on our honeymoon (one of those ‘cuties’ newly wed things!) flipped to his name, so I was off the hook for clean up! What more could a girl ask for?!
I went inside and washed up, sitting down just as he came waltzing to the table, balancing the platter with the steaks and the baked potatoes. He set the food down and we started to eat. “Anytime now,” ran through my head, knowing he was leading up to something. We chatted for several minutes, talking shop. I could see he was leading up to something and hadn’t quite found the right opening to spit it out. Well, I wasn’t going to help him! Sure enough, we started talking about some of the people we know at work. That’s when it just ‘popped’ out!
“You remember Bob and Melissa, don’t you? You met them at the Christmas party last year.”
Yes, I remember them. Bob was a nice guy and worked with Tom on the same team. Melissa was nice enough but a bit ‘chatty’ for my taste. Nice enough couple though.
“Well, Bob and I had lunch yesterday and he was telling me about this great camp grounds they found. He was wondering if we’d like to go on a camping trip with them.”
OK, now it was out! Camping? The only camping trip I was ever on was a one-week camp out with my Bible study group when I was a junior in high school! I remember resisting the advances of Scott, the preacher’s oldest son (who wanted to ‘preach’ to me, but seemed to think my ears were located somewhere in my panties and I would hear his ‘message’ SO MUCH BETTER if he could just get them off me!), and clouds of black flies! I think I still have bites on my ass that itch from those little bastards!
Alarm bells were going off in my head as I asked, “Where is this ‘great’ camp grounds? And when do they want to go? What are the conditions like there? Is it really primitive (like in outhouses!) or are there any amenities (like real bathrooms with running water and electricity!)?”
“Oh, it’s about 25 miles from here and they were thinking of this weekend. The weather is supposed to be great!” I could see that he was excited about the prospect of a weekend in the woods (my own sense of excitement was greatly tampered by the memory of Scott’s roving, very insistent hands, and black fly bites to various and sundry tender parts of my anatomy!).
“He says we’ll be roughing it.” Now ‘roughing it’ with Tom can mean anything from no electricity to mortar rounds falling around the perimeter! He had put in two tours in Iraq as a platoon leader and ‘roughing it’ could mean anything!
“I’ll find out tomorrow and let you know. What do you think? Are you interested?” he said, with a hopeful look in his eyes.
“Find out and I’ll check my work schedule with Steve (my team supervisor) to see if he has anything scheduled for this weekend (I knew I wasn’t ‘on-call’ for the weekend, but what I needed to do was check the state DEC site to see what the season was for black flies, deer flies, and anything else that might bite me in the ass!). If we do go, what about equipment and the gear we’ll need?”
“Don’t worry about it; I’ll take care of everything!”
OH, OH! Warning, Vickie! Warning! The phrase “Don’t worry about it; I’ll take care of everything!” coming from a husband is very often the prelude to “Honey, have you seen…..”, or “Vickie, do you remember where we put…..”, or maybe “Darling, I can’t seem to find the ……”! Now, don’t get me wrong. Tom is (or was when I met him!) a very organized person (for a man!). But, it seems that, ever since I came into his life, I’ve become the ‘chief keeper of our stuff’! It’s like he’s surrendered control over where ANYTHING is kept (except his beloved tools and firearms, which he has categorized, stored away, and knows if they’re moved even a fraction of an inch, at which time there is all HELL to pay!). I rolled my eyes at this one.
“Hey, what was that for?” he exclaimed.
“Look, Tom, the last time we went on a trip, I spent more time tracking down your stuff than I did packing mine!” I rejoined.
“Oh, yeah, I remember. That was when we went to your folk’s house. I also seem to remember that I packed everything I needed for a WEEK in one small roll bag. YOU, on the other hand, had THREE suitcases, one of which almost gave me a hernia when I was getting it upstairs to your old room!”
Now we’re laughing.
“OK, but girls need more stuff than guys do. You don’t want me to look frumpy, do you?”
“Well, no, but trust me; I’ll take care of everything we need if you decide we can make it.” Nice of him, to defer the decision to me!
The next day, I checked. Black fly season was over a month away. Deer flies were after that. There didn’t seem to be problems with that. TICKS! What about ticks? Nope, they were not expected to be an issue this year. OK, so we were going camping. I called his cell (he was on assignment in the field) and gave him the good news.
“GREAT! I’ll get with Bob and work out the details!” He was so happy and excited, while I wondered if I would be on Monday morning. Well, I was committed now, no going back! That night, I had this dream that a bear was chewing on one foot and this huge black fly was chewing on the other! What a way to ‘anticipate’ a camping trip!
For the rest of the week, Tom kept disappearing after dinner, out to various sporting goods stores. The garage quickly filled with an assortment of camping gear (I just couldn’t wait to see his American Express bill for next month! That might put an end to his ranting over my VISA bill from a recent shopping expedition with the girls!). He raided the storage shed behind the house and all of our upstairs closets (and, I must admit, with only an occasional “Honey, where’s the….?’), piling more and more ‘stuff’ on the garage floor. Jesus, from the mountain of gear he had there, you’d think we were taking a company of Marines on an invasion of a hostile coast! How would we get all this ‘stuff’ in the SUV? Well, it was up to him! That “I’ll take care of everything” was going to haunt him!
Friday afternoon, I’m all packed and ready. Taking NO CHANCES, I’ve packed jeans and long sleeved shirts (as well as bottles, spray cans, and jars of just about every brand of insect repellent I could find in the drug store!). Home from work, a quick dinner, help the big baboon pack all this crap in the SUV (it all fit inside or on the luggage rack — what a surprise!) and we’re off to the woods (Oh, joy!). After a quick ‘pit stop’ (he rushed me out of the house so fast I didn’t even have time to pee!) we arrived at the campgrounds. I must admit the entrance was nice. Lots of trees, a beautiful log cabin where we registered, a very nice, kindly looking elderly man checking us in.
“Yes, sir! You got the spot right below Bob and Melissa! One of the two best on the grounds. Have a nice stay!”
Tom went out to the car to get his wallet. While he was gone, I quickly asked about black flies (DEC or no, that thought still haunted me!). “Oh, no! Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, Missus! None of those pesky critters around here at this time of year!”
OK, so Grandpa Grump was reassuring me. I’d believe that when my butt was headed home on Sunday night with no bites (at least none from the flies — I had some plans about nips from Tom!). The site was really beautiful, separated from Bob and Melissa’s by a good 50 feet and under some trees. Now to get ‘set up’ (a technical term for lots of grunting, several curses because the various pieces of gear don’t quite fit together, the tent pegs were too short to hold in the soft soil, and on and on!). Finally, we’re done. The tent looks pretty stable and he had thought to pick up two air mattresses (which goes to show that he’s obviously done this before!). I unrolled the two sleeping bags he had brought along and put one of his old t-shirts on top of mine, so I would have something to slip into before climbing into the bag.
Bob and Melissa wondered over (I noticed AFTER we were all done and my knuckles skinned in a few places!), and invited us back to their site, where we sat around their campfire, swatting at moths and drinking a beer. So far, so good. Melissa and I headed over to the bathrooms, which were down the trail about 100 yards away. “This is going to be fun if I have to go in the middle of the night!” I thought. I wondered if there were any bears in this part of the country. “Little late for that!” crossed my mind. The bathrooms were reasonably clean, with shower stalls and stall toilets. We headed back to the site after finishing our business.
“All this fresh air sure makes you tired,” I said, hinting to Tom that I wanted to slip into something more comfortable than the jeans I was wearing (and hoping he would, eventually, slip into me!). I really was tired – must have been the fresh air and excitement of the day. Tom being the dutiful husband that he is took notice of my wishes and, after a last minute discussion with Bob about getting in some fishing (leaving me with ‘Chatty Kathy’ for the day! Oh, well, that’s what ‘shops in the town’ were for!), we headed back over to our site.
I climbed into the tent, quickly stripping off my shoes, socks, jeans, bra and top, leaving myself in just panties. I slipped the t-shirt on (hummm — comfortable!). Tom was right behind me. Now, this was a fairly small tent. Not sure what was going through his mind when he picked it (remember “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything!”?) but it sure wasn’t designed for two full size people, especially one that’s over six feet tall! After bumping into each other (and my getting an elbow in the head!) he finally managed to get undressed without killing me! Barely! We unzipped the bags and climbed in. Not real comfortable — the linings were slippery and felt cold!
Well, here we are, in the ‘romantic’ woods, the sounds of the crickets chirping, the frogs croaking, and all and sundry noises coming from the assorted wildlife around us. I lay there, inhaling the smell of waterproof canvas and thinking of how stuffy it is in here. I know there’s a zip up flap covering a screen window somewhere above my head, but it’s dark and I can’t see my hand in front of my face. It’s also getting a bit warm in here.
“Tom? Can you unzip the window?”
“Sure thing, honey.”
Unzip sleeping bag, rustle, bump, thrash around noises, him kneeling on my mattress (which dips down alarmingly!),
“OUCH, OUCH — You’re kneeling on my arm!”
“Sorry!”
Zip, zip, zip, cool air.
“Thank you.”
A rather testy “OK now?”, from him. More noise with the flap open, but it’s cooler and doesn’t smell so much of canvas. I lay there, trying to avoid him as he climbs back on his mattress (and not succeeding, as he bangs into me with his knee!).
Tom is falling asleep, the big baboon! I lay there, the cool (getting colder!) breeze flowing over my head. Now I’m cold.
“Tom?” (in my very best ‘little girl’ voice!)
“WHAT?!” (humm — sounds a little exasperated).
“I’m cold. Can you maybe zip that flap up about halfway? Please?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Sounds of mumbling (I swear I heard something about ‘damn girls!’ and ‘I’m hot, I’m cold!’ and something about ‘make up your damn mind!’, but I could have been wrong, since I was busy covering my mouth with both hands, trying to stifle my giggles at his thrashing around) as he climbs out of his bag again, and we go through the bumping, banging, stepping on me routine.
“OUCH! OUCH! My hair!”
“Well, move your head!”
“I would, but you’re standing on my hair!”
But he’s finally back in his bag.
I listen to the noise outside. A new one is added, sounds like a small ‘hissing’ sound. Humm. Wonder what animal is making that noise? And why is my mattress lower than it was a few moments ago?!? And why is my ass now in contact with the ground!?!
“Tom? I think my mattress has a leak. I’m SINKING!”
“Ah, SHIT!” he exclaims. “Come on over here. I’ll fix it in the morning.”
He turns towards me, unzips his bag, rolling onto his side. I turn towards him, sort of hunching my way onto his mattress. These bags are designed for one person and stuffing two into them should prove interesting. Somehow, we manage. He wraps his arms around me (“Now, this is more of what I had in mind!” I think, as I cuddle up to him). One arm is under my waist, his hand cupping the cheek of my ass. The other is trapped between us, his hand working under the t-shirt and cupping one breast, lightly rubbing the nipple
“Ah, this is nice!” I said, as I rub my breasts against his chest. The hand that was cupping my ass cheek has worked its way into my panties, gently squeezing my butt. I feel a suspicious bulge down in his shorts.
“Hey, big guy! Is that a gun in your pants or you just happy to see me?” I ask, giggling as he gropes at my breasts.
Now, I know for sure that there won’t be any gymnastics in this tent! There just isn’t any room for it, so we lay there, side by side facing each other, as I slip my hand into his shorts, grasp that big beautiful cock of his and slide my hand up and down the shaft, which seems to grow bigger and bigger (“How yummy is this!?” I think). Meanwhile, his hands are working at getting my panties off (and I’m helping him as best I can by lifting the hip that’s in contact with the mattress). They slide over my hips, down my legs and off my feet, winding up jammed at the foot of the bag, which has somehow remained zipped up! His fingers travel between us, sliding over my abdomen and pubic mound, pausing at the top of my sex to tickle my clit. I’m not giggling now and neither is he!
He’s growing harder and harder, I’m getting wetter and wetter. The smell of canvas is being replaced with the smell of ‘sexually excited Vickie’ and we’re both really getting into this camping thing! I reach back behind me and grab the zipper tag, pulling it down about halfway. Tom’s movements let it slid all the way down, so it’s open completely now, and gives us a lot more room to thrash around! He raises up and I slide under him, opening my legs and flexing my knees up and outward. This kicks the bag off of us completely (a little cool, but who notices at a time like this!). He settles down between my legs, forcing them open a little more (“This damn tent is so low, I can’t even get my legs up in my favorite position, with my knees over his shoulder! Oh, well, we’ll just have to do it like the old folks do!”). I hook my heels behind his butt (feeling the canvas with my toes!) as he settles down, his cock nestled between the lips of my pussy, my ass resting on the air mattress (“Jesus, please don’t let this one spring a leak!” I think), my arms wrapped around his neck. He lowers his face and we kiss, a deep, soul scorching kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth as his cock slips into my vagina.
“AH!” I moan, softly, as he drives deep into me, my lower back arching off the mattress, my hips rolling down, bringing the tip of my clit into contact with the top of his cock. He’s ball deep in me now, his cock resting quietly as I flex my hips slightly, forcing his cock up and down inside my distended pussy. I hear the liquid sounds of our lovemaking, as my pussy bounces on him. He feels so warm and hard inside me, a warmth I love to feel, a hardness I need so greatly! His hips start to move, sliding forward and back now, sliding his cock in and out, the head alternately rubbing the clasping walls of my vaginal canal and bouncing against my g-spot (“Man, this isn’t so bad!” I think. “No wonder the pioneers had so many kids if this is how they fucked!”).
His pace picks up! He’s rolled my hips up slightly so he can get deeper into me (“Is that possible?” I think. “Oh, yes it is!”), his hands scooting down under me, to cup both cheeks of my ass, lifting my hips up to him as he pounds down. I feel a wonderful climax start to build, deep in my belly, my pussy starting to spasm, my breath tight in my chest as I bear down on the length buried in my cunt. It comes with a crash, one of those ‘fireworks behind the eyes, toe curling, blood to the face, goosebumps all over’ climaxes! Pure bliss!
Still, he’s not done. He’s getting there, I can tell (we’ve done this ‘dance’ enough times that we know each others place in it very well!) but he’s trying to give me even more pleasure. I’m worn out! I’m still feeling the aftershocks running up from my belly, and my pussy is still gently clamping down on him, but there’s no way I can climb that hill again tonight!
“Please, baby, just cum for me! I can’t do it again, not tonight!” I whisper up to him in the darkness. He hears me and I sense an overall increase in the tightness of his hips as he increases his speed, driving harder now, plunging his cock over and over into my warm, willing depths. He lowers his chest to mine, and I feel the course hair brushing over my nipples through the t-shirt. My hips are rising to meet his downward thrusts, my PC muscles clamped tightly on him, my mind willing him to cum! His climax starts and I can sense the hot rush of him semen deep inside my body! His cock jumps and pulses inside me, and I can feel every small movement. He jets his cum, wave after wave washing into my depths, his breath held as his back arches, a groan escaping his lips. He collapses back onto me, my body sinking into the softness of the mattress, my arms locked around his neck, my heels still resting behind his knees. His cock was still in me but, by now, it’s getting softer and losing some of that magnificent girth in the process! No matter how hard I squeeze, I feel his cum dripping out the bottom of my so well fucked pussy and running over my ass. And I know from past experience, what was ‘hot’ a few moments ago will turn rather cold in the middle of the night! Especially when I roll over on it!
“Wow!’ he breaths in my ear, “that was great!”
“Yeah, except you’re crushing me, I have nothing to clean up with since my panties are somewhere lost in the tent, and now we have a great big ‘wet spot’ in the sleeping bag!” He laughed, I giggled, and we started the thrashing around again in this too small for two people tent he bought!
Somehow, we sorted it out. His bag got thrown over to the deflated mattress and we slept under mine. The next challenge would be the hike to the bathroom, but I was so tired, I decided to just skip the ‘dash to the bathroom, squat over the bowl, let it drip, wipe, back to bed’ routine I always did at home. As he was falling asleep, and I was cuddled up in his arms, I said “Tom, next time, let’s just rent a cabin? OK?”
He mumbled back “Whatever you want, honey, whatever you want.”
I’ll leave out the more gruesome parts of this trip, like the fact that it rained the next day, I slipped in the mud on the trail to the bathrooms, that my hair was full of leaves and twigs by the end of the second day, that there was no electricity available for my hair dryer in the bathrooms (roughing it my ass — this was nothing short of cruel and unusual punishment!), that the tent pegs pulled loose in the wind storm on the second night we were there… Ah, the list goes on and on. Tom and I still chuckle over our first camping trip!
We did go camping again, but the tent stayed packed in the garage. We sold it, along with most of the other stuff Tom bought to an unsuspecting newly wed couple in a garage sale the following year. Poor, deluded kids! On our second trip, we rented a fully equipped cabin on the lake. This was more in line with Vickie’s idea of ‘roughing it’! Hot and cold running water, real electricity for my appliances, REAL sheets and a mattress that didn’t spring a leak in the middle of the night, although it was kind of squeaky (and we sure made it sing!). That was a trip to REMEMBER!